


For The Glory

by Anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bottom Jack, Consensual Kink, Kinda?, M/M, Multi, Post-Cup, Public Sex, Questionable Hockey Traditions, Voyeurism, especially tater, everyones just happy to be here, group sex?, the only actual pairing is Jack/Bitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “It’s tradition, Zimmermann,” Marty teases. “We’ve got twenty minutes before they start letting press in --”“Less after your little stunt,” Guy interjects, throwing a wink Bitty’s direction.“Less,” Marty amends. “And Thirdy and I have already had our fun. Someone has to christen the cup, ASAP. As a rookie, captain, and MVP, you’re a triple threat, kid. We’ll go back to back, mark my words.”Jack has two dozen sets of eyes on him and heat pooling in his belly. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect this.





	For The Glory

**Author's Note:**

> This fest has a lot of aggressive kinks already so here's some wholesome celebratory public sex I threw together real quick to try and balance things out.

“It’s tradition, Zimmermann,” Marty teases. “We’ve got twenty minutes before they start letting press in --”

“Less after your little stunt,” Guy interjects, throwing a wink Bitty’s direction.

“Less,” Marty amends. “And Thirdy and I have already had our fun. Someone has to christen the cup, ASAP. As a rookie, captain, and MVP, you’re a triple threat kid. We’ll go back to back, mark my words.”

“I do it,” Tater boasts, hiking a leg up onto the bench, the head of his erect cock already peeking out from beneath the strap of his jock. “It would be honor to fuck Zimmboni.”

A shrill whistle pierces the room and Bitty steps up onto a chair. “Hold your horses! The only one that’s going to be loving on Jack here is me.”

“But little B, you are bottom? Zimmboni need to be bottom for magic to work.”

Jack flushes from pink to red. “Euh, not quite.”

The boys holler and someone pops a bottle of champagne while Marty drops to a knee and looks Jack square in the eye. 

“Alright kid, you got fifteen to eke out an orgasm,” he pats Jack’s cheek lightly. “You think your man has it in him?”

Before he can answer, Bitty leans over Jack’s shoulder and says, “We can do it in ten.”

Bitty grins and pulls his jersey over his head. “Leave the jock on.”

Jack thinks he could probably do it in five at this point, but there are ‘traditions’ that need to be considered.

_____

____

____

_____

 

“B! Is enough, you let me have turn,” Tater begs even as Jack whines beneath Bitty. 

“Fuck me,” Guy mutters, “Thirdy, you didn’t sound anything like that.”

“I wasn’t 26 getting railed by my actual boyfriend,” Thirdy counters breathily, eyes locked on Bittle’s snapping hips. “And you were so drunk you just kept giving one side hell.” 

“WE JUST WIN CUP!” Distressed, Tater pulls off his jock and points at his not-unimpressive cock. “HOW DOES NO ONE WANT TO FUCK???”

“Fucking hell, Tates,” Snowy spits out his gum and slaps his thigh. “You want dick so bad get over here.”

“C’mon boys!” Marty shouts. “More cum, more luck! You know what happened to the Pens last year. Whip ‘em out.” 

“Jack, honey, how you doing?” Bitty rubs his thumbs soothingly over  
Jack’s waist while still holding tight; Jack arches his back into the touch with a groan. 

“Ghnnnnnn, Bits, keep going, I’m close —”

“Bet you are,” Poots laughs. “Look how red he is. There any blood left in your dick, Zimmermann?”

Jack whips out an arm and flips off his teammate before grunting at a shift in angle when Bitty gets a leg up.

“Sweetpea, your thighs are shaking,” Bitty soothes, running a hand over his trembling quad.

“You play — Christ — 35 minutes,” Jack gasps, startling as Goldie reaches out to touch his hair. “See how your thighs feel.”

“Wasn’t a criticism,” Bitty chides, getting a hand under his partner to stroke roughly. Jack smushes his face into a pillow of crumpled game jerseys and tries not to tense up as the first stirrings of an orgasm roll through him. Across the room, Snowy is doing something to Tater that requires more dexterity than Jack can think about, and if he could focus he’s sure more than a few guys are gleefully participating in some very unique debauchery.

His muscles tense and he must say something important because before he can blink there are arms wrapped around him, hauling him upright so he’s cumming, not onto the bench, but directly into the silver bowl of the Cup.

“Ffffuck —”

Bitty’s still inside him, barely, and when Jack comes back to himself, twitching and trembling, stinking of sweat and sex, he finds the boys are lined up, waiting for something.

“You did it, hon,” Bitty tightens an arm around his waist and laughs against Jack’s shoulder. “You did it.”

Marty comes over, naked, semi-hard, to slap a hand on Jack’s shoulder before leaning down and kissing him, hard, with a lot of tongue. “Nice work, kid,” he whispers with a parting peck. “Good season.”

Behind Marty is Thirdy. Then Guy. Then Goldie, and Bosco, and and and...

Jack kisses each in turn, some more chaste than others, like Tater, who must spend a solid thirty seconds holding Jack’s tongue hostage.

“Next cup, Zimmboni, I get to be top,” he looks over Jack’s shoulder and must see Bitty giving him a glare. “If okay with B.”


End file.
